The outrage he expected didn’t come. The curtains were closed, the lights off, giving the room a dim, twilit appearance. It even disguised the untidy mess of clothes and magazines on the floor and bed. At first, Chadwick couldn’t see Yvonne, then he realized she was on her bed, under the eiderdown. When his eyes adjusted, he could also see that she was shaking. Concerned, he perched on the edge of the bed and said softly, “Yvonne. Yvonne, sweetheart. What’s wrong? What is it?”

She didn’t react at first, and he sat patiently waiting, remembering when she was a little girl and came to him when she had nightmares. “It’s all right,” he said, “you can tell me. I won’t be angry with you. I promise.”

Her hand snaked out from under the eiderdown and sought his. He held it. Still she said nothing, then she slowly slid the cover off her face, and he could see even in the weak light that she had been crying. She was still shaking, too.

“What is it, love?” he asked. “What’s happened.”

“It was horrible,” she said. “He was horrible.”

Chadwick felt his neck muscles tense. “What? Has somebody done something to you?”

“He’s ruined everything.”

“What do you mean? You’d better tell me from the start, Yvonne. I want to understand, honestly I do.”

Yvonne stared at him, as if trying to come to a decision. He knew he came across as strict and straight and unbending, but he really did want to know what was upsetting her, and not with a view to punishment this time. Whatever she thought, and however difficult it was, he really did love his daughter. One by one, the terrible possibilities crowded in on him. Had she found out she was pregnant? Was that it? Like Linda Lofthouse when she was Yvonne’s age? Or had someone assaulted her?

“What is it?” he asked. “Did somebody hurt you?”

Yvonne shook her head. “Not like you think.” Then she launched herself into his arms and he could feel her tears on his neck and hear her talking into his shoulder. “I was so scared, Daddy, the things he was saying. I really thought he was going to do something terrible to me. I know he had a knife somewhere. If I hadn’t run away…” She collapsed into sobs. Chadwick digested what she had said, trying to keep his fatherly anger at bay, and gently disentangled himself. Yvonne lay back on her pillows and rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands. She looked like a little girl. Chadwick handed her the box of tissues from the dresser top.

“Start at the beginning,” he said. “Slowly.”

“I was at Brimleigh Festival, Dad. I want you to know that before I start. I’m sorry for lying.”

“I knew that.”

“But, Dad?…How?”

“Call it a father’s instinct.” Or copper’s instinct, he thought. “Go on.”

“I’ve been hanging around with some people. You wouldn’t like them. That’s why… why I didn’t tell you. But they’re people like me, Dad. We’re into the same music and ideas and beliefs about society and stuff. They’re different. They’re not boring, not like the kids at school. They read poetry and write and play music.”

“Students?”

“Some of them.”

“So they’re older than you?”

“What does age matter?”

“Never mind. Go on.”

Yvonne looked a little uncertain now, and Chadwick realized he would have to keep his editorial comments to a bare minimum if he hoped to get the truth from his daughter. “Everything was fine, really it was. And then…” She started trembling again, got herself under control and went on. “There’s this man called McGarrity. He’s older than the others and he acts really weird. He always scared me.”

“In what way?”

“He’s got this horrible, twisted sort of smile that makes you feel like some sort of insect, and he keeps quoting things – T. S. Eliot, the Bible, other stuff. Sometimes he just paces up and down with his knife.”

“What knife?”

“He’s got this knife, and he keeps just, you know, tapping it against his palm as he walks.”

“What kind of knife is it?”

“A flick-knife with a tortoiseshell handle.”

“Which palm does he tap it against?”

Yvonne frowned, and Chadwick realized again he would have to be careful. It could wait. “Sorry,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. Go on.”

“They say… Steve says, he’s a bit weird because he had electroshock therapy. They say he used to be a great blues harmonica player, but since the electric shocks he can’t play anymore. But I don’t know… He just seems weird to me.”

“Is this the man who bothered you?”

“Yes. I went over there this afternoon to see Steve – he’s my boyfriend – but he wasn’t in and only McGarrity was there. I wanted to go but he insisted I stay.”

“Did he force you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say he forced me, but I was uncomfortable. I was just hoping Steve and the others would get back soon, that’s all.”

“Was he on drugs?”

Yvonne looked away and nodded.

“Okay. Go on.”

“He said some terrible things.”

“About what?”

“About the girl who was killed. About those dead people in Los Angeles. About me.”

“What did he say about you?”

Yvonne looked down. “He was rude. I don’t want to repeat it.”

“All right. Stay calm. Did he touch you?”

“He grabbed my arm and he touched my face. He was just so frightening. I was terrified he was going to do something.”

Chadwick felt his teeth grinding. “What happened?”

“I waited until he had his back turned to me and I ran away.”

“Good girl. Did he come after you?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t look.”

“Okay. You’re doing fine, Yvonne. You’re safe now.”

“But, Dad, what if he…”

“What if he what? Was he at Brimleigh?”

“Yes.”

“With you?”

“No, he was wandering around the field.”

“Did you see him go in the woods?”

“No. But it was dark most of the time. I wouldn’t have seen.”

“Where did it happen this afternoon?”

“Just down the road, Springfield Mount. Look, Dad, they’re all right, really, the others, Steve. It’s just him. There’s something wrong with him, I’m sure of it.”

“Did he know Linda Lofthouse?”

“Linda? I don’t… yes, yes, he did.”

Chadwick’s ears pricked up at the familiarity with which Yvonne mentioned Linda’s name. “How do you know? It’s all right, Yvonne, you can tell me the truth. I’m not going to be angry with you.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Yvonne smiled. It was an old ritual. “It was at another house, on Bayswater Terrace,” she said. “There’s three places people, like, gather, to listen to music and stuff. Springfield Mount and Carberry Place are the other two. Anyway, sometime during the summer I was with Steve, and Linda was there. McGarrity too. I mean they didn’t know one another, they weren’t close or anything, but he had met her.”

Chadwick paused a moment to take it all in. Bayswater Terrace. Dennis, Julie and the rest. So Yvonne was part of that crowd. His own daughter. He held himself in check, remembering he’d promised not to be angry. Besides, the poor girl had been through a trauma, and it had taken a lot for her to open up; the last thing she needed now was a lecture from her father. But it was hard to keep his rage inside. He felt so wound up, so tight, that his chest ached.

“You met Linda, too?” he asked.

“Yes.” Tears filled Yvonne’s eyes. “Once. We didn’t talk much, really. She just said she liked my dress and my hair, and we talked about what a drag school can be. She was so nice, Dad, how could anyone do that to her?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Chadwick said, stroking his daughter’s silky blond hair. “I don’t know.”

“Do you think it was him? McGarrity?”

“I don’t know that, either, but I’m going to have to have a talk with him.”

“Don’t be too hard on Steve or the others, Dad. Please. They’re all right. Really they are. It’s only him, only McGarrity who’s weird.”